


Warming Up

by Deannie



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 15:29:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6710740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I fail to understand how it can possibly be so cold in March,” Ezra griped. They could be in town in a couple of hours, nursing a whiskey or two next to the potbelly stove at the saloon, but no. Chris <i>had</i> to check the state of his cabin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warming Up

**Author's Note:**

> It has been... many... years since I wrote sex. Sorry. No idea what happened here. It just came out.

“I fail to understand how it can possibly be so cold in March,” Ezra griped. “It’s unnatural.”

“Mind how you throw that word around, Standish,” Chris replied, that devil’s smile on his face in the dim light of early evening. “Besides, it ain’t that cold.” 

Ezra glared at him. “You could at least get a fire going.” They could be in town in a couple of hours, nursing a whiskey or two next to the potbelly stove at the saloon, but no. Chris  _ had _ to check the state of his cabin—and Ezra used the term loosely—as the two of them rode back alone from a prisoner transfer to Miner’s Hollow. “If I’m going to stay here tonight, I need heat and some whiskey.”

“That’s all you need, huh?” Chris asked, going about the business of setting the fire in the stove, his back at just the right angle as he crouched in those pants of his. Lord, the man could tease! “Reckon I can handle that.”

“Mr. Larabee,” Ezra said quietly, divesting himself of his overcoat despite the chill. He dropped a small tin on the extra-wide sleeping pallet that Chris still used instead of a bed in the not-quite-finished house. “If you are asking would I like to be warmed up through far more carnal methods, the answer is, as ever, yes. I thought that would go without saying.”

“And there you went and used two dozen words to say it anyway,” Chris murmured, rising slowly. 

The fire  _ finally _ began warming the room. Or perhaps that was the black-clad man striding toward him. When Chris Larabee wanted something, he was rarely subtle. It was actually one of the traits that drew Ezra to him. A man born to subterfuge and double dealing, Ezra felt like Chris was something exotic, forbidden: a plain-talking, honest man who couldn’t be conned.

One in a million, certainly.

“You gonna stand there in your fancies all night, or see about getting warmed up?” Chris asked, stepping in and leaning forward to kiss Ezra all too thoroughly. “I’m not much hungry for food right now.”

Ezra leaned into the attention as Chris moved his tongue and lips down to his neck. “I don’t know,” he said, voice just that little bit breathless. “I believe, if we were in town, we could certainly have a nice steak. Perhaps—” he broke off with a small yelp and a large twitch of the dick, as Chris shoved his collar to the side and bit softly and slowly into his neck. “—perhaps pie,” he finished with a moan.

“Pie,” Chris said, contemplating. His hands roamed up Ezra’s fully clothed sides, sliding hard across his chest to end up in the middle, where they began unbuttoning his vest. “Nah. I love a good pie, but I’d rather stay out here where it’s warm.”

And it was. Or getting there, anyway. Ezra had Chris’s shirt unbuttoned and off his shoulders before Chris could do more than remove Ezra’s own black and silver brocade vest. Chris took exception.

Exactly what Ezra had been hoping for. 

“Damnit, Standish, you’re too done up,” Chris growled in frustration as he tossed the vest to the floor. “Just stay still and let me get these damn clothes off you.”

Ezra shook his head and grinned. He’d yet to see how truly riled he could get Chris Larabee when sex was the goal, but he was nothing if not persistent in his goals. “Don’t blame me if your dexterity isn’t what it was,” he taunted, reaching out to grab hold of the older man’s belt. 

“Cracks about my age ain’t gonna get you anywhere,” he was warned. “At least nowhere you want to be.”

Ezra’s hands stilled without finishing the job of removing that belt, as Chris unbuttoned the first few buttons of Ezra’s silk shirt and ran his hands over his lover’s chest again, raising goose pimples in the still cool air. “I believe I may be right where I want to be right now,” he breathed.

Chris chuckled. “Might be getting old yourself, Standish,” he said quietly, as he opened two more buttons and slid his hands back in to run along Ezra’s skin. “Used to take more to get a rise out of you.”

It hadn’t. Ever. Lord, once Ezra had allowed himself to acknowledge the attraction, it seemed just Chris’s proximity was enough to arouse him.

But Chris didn’t need to know that.

He yanked on Chris’s belt again, removing it deftly and unbuttoning his lover’s pants, clever fingers stroking and prodding as he went, without ever removing the pants themselves. “I just wanted to give you a chance to catch up,” he whispered, kissing Chris’s lips insistently while his hands played and Chris’s dick reacted. “I don’t have to.”

Chris moaned slightly and Ezra chuckled into the next kiss. “Damn you, Ezra…”

“Already done, Mr. Larabee,” he murmured with a grin, working his lips and tongue down Chris’s throat while his hands worked Chris’s pants and drawers off his hips. “Care to join me?”

Chris was likewise back to work, removing the last few buttons of that silk shirt and sliding it off Ezra’s shoulders, his hands making faster work of the younger man’s pants as both their needs became more urgent. “Shut up, Ezra,” Chris commanded, the hunger in his voice making it sound more like a plea as he shoved his lover toward the pallet by the stove.

Ezra stood with his back to the pile of blankets, panting now as Chris quickly pulled away and kicked off his boots, his pants and drawers following after. 

“I’m not one of your men here, Mr. Larabee.” The protest was weak as he took in every inch of Chris’s skin, scars and all. Beautiful and damn near perfect. Chris was hard and waiting, and Ezra had very little willpower when it came to this sort of thing.

“Not ‘one of,’” Chris agreed, eyes dark with passion. “The only one.”

And wasn’t that the finest aphrodisiac available?

Chris stalked forward and grabbed Ezra’s shoulders, using his superior height and a kiss that should have melted the stove beside them to force Ezra to fold himself onto the pallet. Chris took a moment to wrap one hand around Ezra’s throbbing penis and squeeze gently, teasing, before he left his lover breathless and started pulling off those expensive calfskin boots.

“Too damn many clothes,” Chris said once he’d finished with the shoes. He simply grabbed Ezra’s pants by both legs and slid them off in one maddening movement and Ezra fought to control himself just a little longer. The silk drawers came next, so soft and slippery that Chris chuckled as he flung them aside. “They  _ would _ be the only thing easy to get off, wouldn’t they?”

Ezra clawed his way back to something calmer and grinned. “So very few get that far,” he joked. “There should be some sort of re _ ward! _ ” 

His quip was entirely spoiled as Chris again took him in hand and squeezed—no gentle pressure now, but an insistent grip that demanded response. Ezra groaned loud, reaching up with one hand to grip Chris’s shoulder, while his other hand reached back behind him to fish out the tin he’d dropped before. 

“Here,” he gritted, holding onto that control that he was famous for at the poker table. It was always so damn fleeting in the bedroom. “Make yourself useful.”

Chris let go of Ezra’s dick, causing him to moan as his breath shortened to needy pants. He opened the tin of skin grease and smirked. “Already warm from the fire. Always thinking ahead, aren’t you, Ezra?”

Ezra reached down between Chris’s legs and squeezed with his own insistence. “I said make yourself useful,” he growled, knowing the effect it would have on his lover. Chris was never a man to take it, but give him an order in the course of sex, and he was easy to arouse.

True to form, Chris sucked in a breath at the command, but a crafty look said Ezra was in for one of their better nights. He kept his eyes on Chris’s as his lover scooped up a small amount of the warm gel and began slowly, teasingly, maddeningly to slick it over Ezra’s dick. 

“Chris,” he breathed. “What...?” This was not the way things went. Usually.   
“Oh, you didn’t think you were getting off that easy, did you, Standish?” Chris whispered, kneeling with one leg on either side of Ezra’s hips, lording himself and his erection over him. “Just a quick fuck and done?” Chris let go of his dick so abruptly it hurt and dropped onto all fours, his hands on the floor to either side of Ezra’s head as he leaned in and kissed his lover hard. “No way to generate heat there, is it?”

Chris was back up on his knees, hand on Ezra’s dick and working up and down the shaft of it so quickly that Ezra wondered if he hadn’t lost a little time somewhere. He didn’t care. Chris’s hand was a relentless pleasure, rough and hard and gentle and suddenly Ezra was arching under him and coming hard, snarling in satisfaction as his thigh grazed Chris’s erection and pulled a long moan from the man.

Without waiting for Ezra to recover, Chris flipped him over and Ezra nearly screamed at the contact of his well-used flesh against the texture of the blanket beneath them. As he put his hands on the ground to either side of his shoulders, Ezra gave himself over to the sensation of being made ready, his cheek on the ground and his vision strangely filled with one of Chris’s boots, where it had fallen in his lover’s haste to be rid of them.

Chris slid a finger into him and his body was too shocked by the recent orgasm to resist. He was stretched in far less time than he’d thought Chris would take, but the heavy breaths and groans above him let him know his lover was no more able to wait than he had been. Ezra cried out as Chris pulled his hips up and pushed into him slowly. He stopped, his balls flush against Ezra’s ass, and paused too long. Ezra found the strength to shove up against him, rising to all fours and squeezing around him to get a growl in response.

“Like I said,” Chris told him, just the lust in his voice doing things to Ezra that made him wish he could rise to the challenge again, “you ain’t getting off that easy.”

Because sometimes, the universe grants wishes.

Chris worked in and out slowly, painfully. After having come himself, and hard, Ezra’s body reacted to each thrust with a frisson of pain that shocked him up to the base of his neck. He rode it out, because the pain itself was welcome and because, as it always did, at some point it turned to pleasure. He keened with the transition, and Chris, knowing his lover well, chuckled at the sound and finally began moving faster, deeper.

It was possible that Ezra cried his name the first time Chris hit his prostate, but he was unable to form words by the second, so it hardly mattered. He stayed on his hands and knees for as long as he could, but his strength gave out and he found himself back on the blanket, staring at that damn boot as Chris reamed into him.

If Ezra had been less overtaken by his own pleasure, he might have marveled that Chris held out as long as he did, but Ezra’s now constant groan of pleasure, coupled with the tremors that gripped and released Chris as he slid in and out assured that he came, hard, the pressure and heat and shock of it causing Ezra’s dick to twitch and scratch against the rough pallet beneath him as Chris dropped over him after a long moment of pleasure, sliding out as he descended.

He made a surprisingly acceptable blanket, and Ezra found himself starting to drift off. Only one thing was bothering him.

“Why in hell is it so hot in here?” he asked sleepily.

“Ezra, shut up,” Chris grated, half asleep himself. His voice was thick with frustration and Ezra grinned.

After all, he was nothing if not persistent.

******  
the end


End file.
